The Accusations Fly
by Frisky Wallabee
Summary: Davton and Javid. Rated for slash and implications of sex. I could write whole odes to you and your eyes and your crystal blue tears


**A/N: **I admit, I love David pairings.

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I knew from the moment I saw you, that you were perfection. I had seen you smiling up at the World building after the tall boy whose name would soon mean so much to everyone had gone inside it. Everyone regarded him as the big hero but I saw you in that position. You were everything to him. You came up with everything, you were the brains. I even saw it there. You exuded authority but the cautious kind as if you were afraid. Afraid to be noticed. That was why you spoke your words to him.

But that was why I was so attracted to you.

I had hidden all of my feelings for men until I saw you. But you aren't even a man. You're still a boy almost. Sixteen is very young when you're in your thirties.

But it didn't matter. It wasn't like I hadn't heard of the other men. The sick men who go after little boys, even their own sons. I remember reading about a man named Vincent Meyers touching his four-year-old son and getting sent to the insane asylum for shock therapy. I had always wondered what became of his son. The little boy. How he felt about it. Now I've met him. I think if it weren't for you, I would've loved him. With his blind optimism and naiveté and his undeniable beauty. I could've even loved Jack with his eyes and lips and hair but I didn't want either of them. I wanted you.

I remember our first kiss. You had come into my apartment, stricken. You told me how you went to free Jack from the refuge and helped him escape from Pulitzer's mansion. You told me about the yells and the shouts in the alley and how he screamed at you to leave. You told me about the pain in your breastbone and the feel of Jack's words resounding in your head.

You told me that you loved him.

Then you started to cry. Tears welled up in those gorgeous blue eyes and you fell to your knees, pulling me to you. When the tears fell, I expected them to be blue as well. Long blue crystals dripping down your face. I could write whole odes to you and your eyes and your crystal blue tears. I knew that you would appreciate them and smile at me.

But you'd never love me.

No, unlike me, you were smitten with Jack's eyes, which were like patina bronze, brown and melted like chocolate. You were in love with his sun-kissed locks and winning smile. You were enamored with his cocky ways, his swagger, his voice. But that night, there was no more mention of Jack.

I kissed you.

You melted in my arms. I knew that you didn't love me but you were distressed. Then we ended up in my bed. I know now that what I had done was wrong. That was why you left me.

Then the anger you felt towards me in the restaurant. Everyone seemed to think that it was because of the article but I knew you. The look on your face broke my heart. I could only wish that there had been something I could have done for you. Anything to wipe that look off of your face. And to know that I caused it…it killed me.

You first came to me because of Jack and now you're back because of him. When he kissed Sarah, I knew that it killed you. I knew that it was just a knife into your chest. I don't know if you ever told Jack how you felt before he kissed your sister. I never found out.

But here you are. You're back in my bed, the covers pulled up around you. Your curls ruffled and your breath lightly moving the sheets rumpled in your hand. I go to walk over to you, to stroke your hair, but the door is kicked open. Jack stands fuming in the doorway. His shoulders are heaving up and down and his usually unearthly gorgeous face is scrunched up and malicious.

"You sick bastard," he spits. "You sick, boy-lover."

You sit up in the bed and clutch the covers to your chest.

"Jack…" you start.

He's not listening. "You, you…I trusted you and look! You're disgusting!"

His words, I hear them twisted with jealousy. He's jealous of me. Everything he's saying is a lie about being a sick, boy-lover. He's one too.

"David, get changed," he doesn't look at you. His patina bronze eyes are on me and only me.

You drop to the floor, scrambling for your clothes. I sigh and sit back, knowing Jack's tirade will soon be over. Part of me wishes that he'll kill me or at least bludgeon me to somehow cease the pain that's blossoming in my chest because I know what's going to happen once you're both alone. But I don't say anything.

Once you're dressed, Jack grabs your arm and you're gone. I follow you both to the door, gripping so hard that the black paint comes off on my hand. I see Jack push you against the wall further down the hall, almost out of earshot. I hear you yell back.

"Because of you!"

Then you both kiss. I see Jack push you up against the wall and kiss you hard. You, even though you were just loved by me, you put your arms around his waist. You've gotten what you wanted all along. And now I'm left with nothing but broken pieces.


End file.
